


Fake My Own Death

by WindyStars



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gray Harry, I am still learning to use tags, M/M, Misguided Dumbledore, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Smart Harry, Strong Harry, Time Travel Fix-It, Tom Learns New Things
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 14:54:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11648901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WindyStars/pseuds/WindyStars
Summary: After the debacle at the Ministry Harry is left feeling alone and lost.  He finally decides he is done and preforms a ritual to fake his own death and leave everyone else to solve their own problems.  However, something goes wrong and Harry suddenly finds himself back in 1943 living Tom Riddle’s fifth year with him.  All Harry wants is peace and a fresh start but he is Harry of course.  Can Harry prevent Tom from destroying his own soul?  What does Harry mean to Tom?





	1. Chapter One: The Decision is Made

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for this came to me while I was listening to Sum41’s “Fake My Own Death” so here it is.  
> This is my first time writing anything. Not writing and posting but writing period. I would appreciate any comments or constructive criticism; just try not to totally eviscerate me. I am horrible with spelling (thank goodness for spell check) and my grammar is nothing to write home about so please let me know about any errors and I will work to correct them.
> 
> The story starts right after the fifth book. I am changing it a little so that Harry was told about the horocruxes and the prophecy at the same time.
> 
> I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters; I just enjoy twisting the story a little to see how things might have played out.
> 
> However, I did come up with this story and so, though flattered if anyone wanted to; I would like to request that no one re-post it anywhere else without my permission. Thank you!
> 
> Here is another Harry/Tom fic that no one asked for but I wanted to write:

Harry lay on his creaky bed at Number 4 Privet Drive gazing at the cracks on the celling where Dudley had thrown a toy that wasn’t working. His bright green eyes stared but his mind was miles away trying his best not to think about what Dumbledore had told him after Sirius…after Sirius. Unfortunately, not worrying had never been a talent of his when there weren’t immediate life and death battles going on and there was not much to do at the Dursley’s but think.  


His mind went in circles contemplating the prophecy. The fact that not only did Harry somehow have to be the one to kill Voldemort but that he had to first destroy the scattered pieces of his soul to be able to do it. However, looking around at his muggle settings and briefly considering his less than pleasant childhood, he couldn’t help but feel a little empathy for Tom Riddle but not Voldemort, never him. After seeing him in Dumbledore’s memory as a child just learning about magic and then the other memory that Dumbledore showed him of Tom Riddle’s family he couldn’t help but feel some kinship. Though he had to admit, begrudgingly, Riddle’s family was debatably even worse than his. It was disheartening to consider the way the sharp student he met in the diary and the excited child with a dream of learning about magic and being someone great had slowly sank into insanity as he sold off pieces of his soul for immortality. Or, well, as close as he could get; “I, who have gone further than anybody on the path that leads towards immortality.”  


Harry closed his eyes with a resigned sigh. Even considering his looming future couldn’t distract him from the recent past. No matter what Dumbledore said it was at least partially his fault that Sirius was…it was hard just thinking it…was dead. Hermione had warned him that this was probably a trap and he went along anyway. Though, even knowing it might be a trap he wasn’t going to risk leaving Sirius to the mercy of the Death Eaters. Dumbledore still wasn’t clear on exactly how Voldemort had gotten into his head to give him the images he received and why he occasionally saw some from Voldemort without even trying. He shuttered at the idea of being connected to someone like him. Though his one experience with possession had given him a better idea of how to block his mind then all his time with Snape had done.  


Aunt Petunia began shrieking for him to come downstairs and get to work. When he made his way down, footsteps heavy with this thoughts, he was immediately told to go outside and work on the garden. Out of all the chores he could do Harry actually didn’t really mind working in the garden, with cooking being his next favorite. Cleaning the bathroom was probably his least favorite as Dudley like to go and make a mess of it right after he finished so he got yelled at.  


All there was to do in the garden this time was some weeding which, regrettably, did not take much focus and so his mind again began to wander once more. As he pulled up a thistle sprout, automatically looking out for the thorns, Harry remembered the last time that he hadn’t gotten any letters from his friends and saw Dobby in the garden. This time he didn’t think a house elf was withholding his mail since he got letters but he might as well not have for all the substance they contained. With no real contact all he could do was consider the black hole that Sirius had left. Dumbledore was probably behind the lack of contact and probably had an “it was for the best” sounding reason behind it but Harry wasn’t sure how much more he could handle. Yanking out a particularly stubborn weed his thoughts took an equally vicious turn. It really seemed like they didn’t care and, if he didn’t know that they all wanted him to be the one to defeat the most powerful dark lord of all time, it would seem like they didn’t really need him either! Tempting then to just disappear but he knew they would go all out trying to find him and drag him back to his dangerous life. After all at this point his friends, or at least he thought they were still his friends would be safer without him around since he had proved he only led them into danger. If only there was some way to vanish but not have them all worrying about him.  


Petunia, dressed in a fancy salmon pink cocktail dress with a few too many ruffles, called him inside since they were leaving to a work party. She allowed him a glass of water and some of the leftover bread and cheese from making dinner before sending him back to his room. Harry moved as if on autopilot (not that wizards would know what that meant) and slumped dejectedly back up to his room. Plopping back down on his bed he considered never getting up again but someone would make him eventually. It wasn’t fair that they expected him, at only 15, soon to be 16 to defeat Voldemort, whose name alone most people were too terrified to say. Until he was dead, and he was sure with the way his life was going it was only a matter of time, people would always want something from him. While his life was not in any way, shape or form ideal Harry still wanted to live it, in fact his drive to survive no matter the cost is what had largely helped him to make it this far.  


What if they only thought he was dead? Harry contemplated this idea for what was actually the second time but the only time with any really seriousness.  


Back in the time before the first task and before Moody, or well Death-Eater-Moody’s hint when Harry had been rather desperate, Ron actually, had make a joke about playing dead and maybe the dragon would leave him alone. Hermione rolled her eyes and explained that the dragon would probably just eat him but then went on a rant about how wizards had much more reliable methods for checking if someone was alive or not and it could include, in extreme situations, a spell that could supposedly detect the presence of a soul. She then went on about the difference in religious beliefs between muggles and wizards and implications of proof of the presence of a soul.  


While Harry knew it wasn’t an answer for his problem with the dragon his curiosity had been peaked. Since, as a champion, he had a blanket allowance to use the restricted section he investigated after the first task when he had some free time before figuring out the egg. He delved into some of the books on soul magic and found it very interesting. A now ironic twist since it was so important with regards to horecruxes. In retrospect they had even been mentioned in a vague manner though not by name when discussing the fact that a soul could be broken but that doing so damaged the individual mentally, physically and magically. The book he found stated that it could heal but he imagined the pulling it away from the rest of the soul gave it no chance to do so. However, it also discussed how to induce an out-of-body experience and Harry theorized that this could be used to fake his own death. The ritual allowed for him to leave his body and then return to it when he pleased. It had in the past been used by wizards to see what people really thought of them once they were presumed dead with some interesting side stories as to the results.  


As Harry’s thoughts became less and less joking he considered what he would need to do the ritual. Luckily, or maybe it was fate, he had copied the instructions out in a notebook. He had enough gold stashed away under his floorboards to collect and make a life for himself after he was declared dead. Harry even had a chunk of it converted into muggle money to last him living under the radar until he came of age and could do magic on his own. All he really needed was some chalk and, he paused taking a deep breath, a lily to represent death. He also needed a significant day to perform the ritual for added power. Harry’s birthday was just a few days away and he decided to use that instead of waiting for one of the more traditional pagan holidays like the solstice or Samhain since they could sometimes have unintended effects along with the boost in power. As long as it was significant to him it should work and while he hadn’t really celebrated it at all when he was young it was his birthday that made him fit the prophecy and the day that he received his first Hogwarts letter. He also thought that the ritual would be harder to pull off undetected at Hogwarts.  


Over the next few days till his birthday Harry revived a little now that he had a goal. He went back and forth on it but on the day before his birthday he carefully cut a lily from the garden and brought it inside. Petunia wasn’t a fan of lilies and probably wouldn’t have had any in her garden at all but Miss-Number-7 had been bragging about how lilies could be harder to take care of and that no one else in the neighborhood had them in their gardens. Proof that Petunia cared more about what people thought and showing others up than she did about any of her own preferences or other feelings. Harry already had the chalk and he meticulously copied the runic circle out on the floor. It required no wand so it wouldn’t be detectable and once the ritual was finished all signs of it would vanish leaving everyone to assume that he dropped dead (probably because of dark magic which the ritual technically was). Harry winced only slightly as he cut himself and traced over parts of the circle in his own blood. He was very used to injuries and a cut like this, even if it needed to be deep enough to produce a decent amount of blood didn’t really bother him. After the cut was wrapped up in strips of a destroyed shirt of Dudley’s he was done. Everything was ready at last. All he had to do now was wait till the clock struck midnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quote from Voldemort in the graveyard is from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire and belongs to J.K. Rowling.
> 
> So that is it for chapter one. Sorry about all the angst but it is 5th book Harry. I will eventually get to having more characters than just Harry.
> 
> The first couple chapters are going to be shorter, thought I might go back at some point and beef them up they will get longer as I get to include more people.


	2. Chapter 2: The Ritual Goes Wrong?

As the time slowly crept closer to his birthday Harry began to have some doubts. What about Voldemort? Was it really right that he was leaving everyone to deal with it without him? What if it really did have to be him? What about his friends? What would they think about his death?  
The more ruthless part of Harry’s brain cut in. Dumbledore clearly knew what he had to do to defeat Voldemort, as an underage magician Harry couldn’t be better at it than Dumbledore with all his power, experience and knowledge. It shouldn’t be his job alone to kill Voldemort and he really wasn’t even sure he wanted to kill anyone, even someone as evil as Voldemort. Besides prophecies were very open to interpretation and could often be understood only after they were fulfilled. He had read a decent number of fiction books as a child (hidden from the Dursley’s since they portrayed unnatural occurrences) and they almost all had something about how words could be interpreted differently. Harry’s friends would be upset but they clearly were fine with forgetting him all summer and hanging out without him together. He knew he might be a bit unfair but that was the only treatment he had ever received and anyway they were probably better off without him. Thus satisfying both his need to save everyone and his feelings a betrayal and abandonment Harry prepared to begin the ritual.  


Carefully placing the pure white lily that seemed to glow in the moonlight across the circle from him Harry stepped inside being careful not to disturb the chalk and blood symbols. In his pocket he had placed his trusty holly wand and his invisibility cloak hoping that no one would take it from his body and he would be buried with them. On a side note, Harry was glad that the twins had taught him how to pick locks the muggle way or he would have been without his school stuff entirely since, once they knew that he no longer had his godfather it had once again been taken from him. But back to the present, as he focused Harry’s eyes steeled the green seeming to blaze with an unyielding light as he began to count down, watching the clock he had repaired. At precisely midnight Harry began to chant, “Απελευθέρωση της ψυχής (pronounced apelefthérosi tis psychís)” he began to feel a little strange but kept up his chanting with carefully enunciated words knowing how important it was that he get them right. If he performed part of this wrong he could end up permanently separated from his body and not be able to follow the lead that was left to reenter it.  


Slowly separating his soul from his body was a weird sensation but not totally unpleasant and after five years in the magical community Harry was a master of strange feelings. In some ways it felt freeing like flying but also intimidating like flying without any real guarantee that regular rules of gravity weren’t about to take back over. Harry prepared to see his soul. According to the book this had destroyed more than one person; being forced to see the essence of themselves. Souls could become damaged by events and decisions and Harry knew it would be hard to want to go back if he saw that his soul was ugly and ruined or he was actually a horrible person to begin with. Supposedly, as a soul, he could even see what other’s souls looked like and he admitted to being curious about what that might reveal about those who checked on his body.  


It was a strange sensation to see his own body collapsing on the ground as the symbols disappeared but the thought was driven out of his mind as Harry looked upon himself.  


He wasn’t sure what he expected but his soul was-him and also more than he ever thought he could be. It looked like a swirling storm. There were great purple and gray twists, moved by whipping winds and bright flashes of lightning and the dark calm of space at the center of the storm. The longer he stared the more Harry could see events of his life reflected here and there. The eddying near the middle was Harry at his most calm and centered when he was acting on instinct. There were marks and cuts in the steely clouds were Sirius’ death had cut into him. Gradually Harry noticed something stuck to the side of his soul like creeping mold on fruit. The material looked like a soul but not a healthy one. It seemed like a majestic emerald forest that had been largely cut down and was infested with rot, smelling of death and decay. At first Harry thought it was a part of his own soul that was being destroyed but it was so different than his that he knew it couldn’t be.  


With a sudden leap of intuition that Harry was always rather good at he realized that it wasn’t his soul but another clinging to his and the only one he knew who was losing bits of their soul and would appear so damaged was Voldemort. Sickeningly Harry realized why this made so much sense. It explained the strange connection between the two of them. The occlumancy hadn’t worked because it was a connection of the souls, not the minds although souls and minds are connected somewhat. The visions tended to come to him while asleep because that is when the consciousness fades and the unconscious which is in much closer connection to the soul rules.  


If Harry still had a body to use he might have thrown up. As it was he could feel his very soul shaking with the realization of why exactly Dumbledore wanted Harry to be the one to kill Voldemort. While Harry lived Voldemort literally couldn’t die. Harry was one of the horecruxes that would have to be destroyed before Voldemort could die. This meant that Dumbledore had always intended for Harry to die, perhaps even expected him to kill himself in the end.  


Just then his horrific realizations were interrupted but the appearance of none other than Albus Dumbledore upon whom his soul had been focused (he could still use his mind in this form but he was ruled more by the unconscious and instinct which the book warned could be dangerous if he didn’t keep control). In this form he saw Dumbledore as a glowing, blazing fire; at once both warm and inviting but also dangerous and uncaring. He burned with a passion and yet, for the cause, anyone and anything might get burned.  


Wrestling back control for the moment Harry focused on the here and so that his soul didn’t wander. Dumbledore looked very concerned and the flames of his soul jumped around agitatedly. He quickly began casting spells. Some Harry recognized as tests to see if his soul was present in his body and others he had no idea of.  
Harry found he was easily distractible in this form and a sudden whiff of decay (smell is the closest sense he could compare it to though it wasn’t really a smell) changed his focus. Staring at the soul bit attached to his Harry instinctively wanted it off with a ferocity that surprised even him and began to scrape it off his soul where it had attached itself.  
While he worked on this Harry distantly noticed a distressed Dumbledore walking out of his room, probably to ask the Dursley’s if they knew anything about his apparent death.  


Suddenly with the sound of a suction cup being released the piece of Voldemort’s destroyed soul popped off. It hovered uncertainly for a moment before getting pulled somewhere as if through a vortex. Harry hadn’t quite managed to detach the last strand from him and began to get pulled in. Frantically he reached out to his body, thinking that he would just go back in now and forget his plan rather than be forced to follow Voldemort’s rotted soul piece wherever it was going. This only resulted in his body being dragged along for the ride.  


After an indeterminable amount of time Harry felt himself settling. Looking around (as much as one can as a soul) Harry found himself in a familiar corridor in Hogwarts leading to the dungeons. Looking around confused he found the only other soul was a shocked looking Tom Riddle, not Voldemort but Tom Riddle. Harry’s breath would have been taken away if he was breathing. Tom’s soul whole was awe inspiring. He was a strong proud forest of trees with hidden depths. He had a calming earthy forest scent nothing like the rot that Harry suddenly saw was trying to attach itself to him. Angry with the diseased soul piece for trying to infect the towering canopy of trees Harry pushes it away and instead of going anywhere it tried to latch back onto Harry but he wouldn’t let it. The fight seems to go on for hours though it can’t have been more than seconds as Tom Riddle hadn’t hardly moved. Harry feels himself joined by many other souls, but they feel different, somehow more distant and he can’t see them clearly. Harry pushes they begin to pull and slowly yank the small piece of Voldemort’s soul back to wherever they came from. The feeling of their departure reminds him of something but Harry can’t quite put his wand on it.  
The fight had tried out his soul and, aware that he might be damaged if he wasn’t given a place to rest; his soul unconsciously reentered his body, looking for shelter and peace. Harry felt darkness close in and knew no more.


	3. Chapter 3: The Sorting of Lots of Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will have some switching points of view because I love reading them. If I am not adequately writing them please let me know what I can do to improve. Thank you for reading!
> 
> In this chapter you get more characters than just Harry!

Tom glanced around and then back at the unconscious boy that had suddenly appeared in front of him. He contemplated his options. He could call his head of house and let him know or he could just walk away and pretend he had never seen anything. 

The advantage of walking away was that it would be someone else’s problem and that Dumbledore wouldn’t try and blame him for it. The man was uncommonly suspicious of him. The advantage to alerting Professor Slughorn was that he would get commended for helping a fellow student and he didn’t seem to want to just walk away from someone that he had actually thought dead for a minute until his chest began to rise and fall shallowly. Tom considered this emotion as it was rare and then stared intently at the boy who had caused it. 

There didn’t seem to be anything to extraordinary about him. He had dark messy hair and smooth even skin, his eyes were closed and he had a peaceful expression on his face. The boy appeared to be on the petite side and Tom thought this could probably make him appear younger then he actually was. He was dressed in some ratty muggle cloths. Tom entertained the thought that the boy might be a muggle for half a second before deciding that it couldn’t be true since even unconscious he had a powerful magical aura about him.

Sighing Tom made his decision. He couldn’t just leave such a powerful magical child to the mercy of whatever Slytherin might come by; who knew what they would do to him in those muggle cloths. It would also go a long way towards his image as a responsible Prefect since he had just received the position. If he told Professor Slughorn first he would help smooth anything over with the suspicious old man. He could even justify going to Slughorn since his office was the closest.  
Tom carefully and expertly placed a levitation spell on the boy and he drifted along beside him towards Professor Slughorn’s office.

 

Harry slowly came awake staring at a ceiling he knew only too well. Somehow he had found himself back in the infirmary again.

Harry quickly racked his brain trying to remember how he had gotten hurt this time only to recall that it had been summer and school was out. Still Dumbledore might have brought him here to keep an eye on him if he got seriously injured. Glancing around Harry saw his wand sitting on the table nearby and sighed in relieve (he never felt safe without it in in grabbing distance) and then he spotted some flowers in a pot and they suddenly reminded him of the lily he had cut. The book had warned that memories as a soul could be hard to recall and that is why an object meaning death and of some importance to the caster was supposed to be used. By using it as a focus the memories could be recovered.

Harry was really beginning to hope that his memories where just really messed up. Because he remembered discovering he was a horecrux of Voldemort’s, getting it off him and somehow transporting both is soul and body back to a younger looking Tom Riddle only to have to fight off the soul piece. He was pretty sure he had won and then passed out. Panicking he quickly “felt” around his soul. Harry now had a better understanding of it and the horecrux was gone. Harry could now fill in the blanks, he must have gone back into his own body and Dumbledore had brought him to the infirmary of Hogwarts. The image he had seen of younger Tom Riddle was probably just a manifestation of the soul piece back when it was healthy. Disappointment at not being able to successfully fake his own death flooded through him but, then again, now that Voldemort’s soul piece was gone maybe Dumbledore wouldn’t be as insistent about Harry alone being the one to defeat him and in fact, perhaps the prophecy had already been fulfilled. After all, Harry had died in a manner of speaking and it was at least partially Voldemort’s fault and now he didn’t need to just survive, he could actually live his life. Satisfied with his word play Harry relaxed onto the bed, expecting Hermione, Ron and the Weasley’s to come in and check on him any minute. He may have relaxed a little too soon.

A moment later the door did open but it was the door to the office and instead of Madame Pomfrey another woman stepped out. This witch had blond hair pulled tightly back into a bun at the back of her head giving her soft features a more severe look and long flowing green robes. As her eyes met Harry’s he got a strange sense of a rocky mountain top. Talus making the mountain treacherous to stand on but steady and strong none the less, an earthy scent permeating the air. Harry’s eyes widened as he realized he was sensing her soul (not quite seeing and not quite smelling). The book didn’t say anything about a side effect like this! Well by now he was used to strange side effects around him and being able to sense other’s souls could be useful; it was far from the worst side effect that could have occurred Harry reasoned. The witch was eyeing him strangely as she stepped closer and, clearing his throat, he decided to break the ice.

“Um, who are you?” Harry questioned.

“My name is Healer Willow Achillea Folium but you may call me Healer Folium. Do you know how you got here?” She shot off in a professional voice of someone who had answered this question more than once.

“Nooo?” Harry questioned more than stated in response.

“You were brought here by Prefect Riddle, he said that he found you collapsed in a corridor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry which is where you are now though in the infirmary.” Giving Harry a piercing look as if she were the one who could see souls instead she admonished, “Your body wasn’t exactly in very good condition upon arrival either. I already healed the cut on your palm though it might leave a scar, you really should have gotten it seen to sooner.”

“I’m sorry who brought me here!?” Harry panicked thinking, please no, please no over and over like he could make it true if he only wished hard enough.

Healer Folium tried to look comforting as she responded, “Mr. Tom Riddle, one of the prefects here” but seeing that this didn’t alleviate the panic in Harry’s eyes she added, “He is a very responsible young man and took very good care of you to his professor’s office and then up here.”

Closing his eyes with a quite groan Harry tensely asked, “What is the date, please?” This time he didn’t even dare to hope.

Yet he still flinched slightly when Healer Folium responded as completely as her other answers with, “Friday November 1st, 1943, you have been unconscious since last night and it is now around noon. Now I noticed your groan, are you in any pain right now?”

Harry couldn’t answer his mind awhirl with the possibilities of how his soul, with his body trailing behind like a toddler on a leash had somehow managed to go back in time. Time travel this far back wasn’t supposed to be possible! What if he screwed something up really bad in the future? Why did possible never seem to apply to Harry bloody Potter. With a jolt he realized that he wasn’t even going to be able to go by that name here since he hadn’t been born yet. Doing the math he realized that not even his parents had been born yet.

Apparently concerned with his lack of response, Healer Folium touched him lightly on the shoulder. Despite the gentle touch Harry jumped and his eyes shot open. He really didn’t like being touched. Her hand had drawn sharply back when Harry flinched. Looking at her apologetically Harry mumbled, “Sorry, you surprised me. I’m not in any pain.” Privately, thinking that he might be going insane though. Almost hopeful really because it would mean that this whole time travel thing wasn’t really happening but it felt disturbingly real. Though isn’t that what a crazy person would think? Looking up at the healer now running diagnostic spells on him, “just to check” he knew he wasn’t imaging it. While he had a very active imagination after a childhood spend alone he knew there was no way he would be able to imagine the sense of a soul that he got from the unassuming witch in front of him.

Turning to him she stated skeptically that although he was a little undernourished, he appeared to be otherwise fine. Remembering his reaction earlier the healer gently asked him, without touching him, “Who are you and do you know how you came to be here?”

Who am I? Harry thought the question was very different from, “what is your name.” Who was he? He was The Boy Who Lived and The Chosen One to the wizarding community, though he had also been The Boy Who Lied to them. He was just Boy to his uncle and muggle family. He was Harry Potter to his friends. Harry knew if he wanted to avoid as much changing of the future as possible he was going to have to go by a different name and although she had asked “Who are you?” what the healer really wanted to know was “What do I call you?” With only a slight pause Harry responded, “My name is Harry (he didn’t think he would be very good at answering to anything else) Patel (it was a common name and he once remembered a nice kid on the block having that last name who had even talked to him once before Dudley scared him off) and I have no idea how I came to be here.” This response had the advantage of being true since Harry wasn’t always able to pull off a good lie on the spot.

“Well, what do you remember?” Healer Folium asked in the same soft steady tone.

“Um,” thinking quickly now Harry remembered Lockhart and decided he might be able to pass as having some memories obviated. “I remember I’m a wizard and have been learning some spells from my Aunt since I was eleven, I remember being at their house and then I remember being here.” Summoning up his very real panic about being sent to the past Harry continued in a distressed tone, “But I don’t remember their names, or where we were or how I got here!” rising in volume until the end of the sentence Harry freaked out.

“Calm down young man” the matron said sternly to Harry trying to calm him with her confident presence alone. “We will sort this all out and until then I’m sure you are welcome to stay here at Hogwarts.” She said this in voice that seemed to mean that if he wasn’t someone would have to answer to her.

Harry did indeed breathe easier knowing that he would have a chance to stay but who knows what he might change at Hogwarts, filled as it was with people he knows in the present or ancestors of people he knows/knew/will know, whatever the proper usage was. Inside he snickered a little at the thought of asking Hermione the proper verb tense usage when one is in the past. She would probably know too, Harry thought sadly, still hurt by the way she had listened to Dumbledore about speaking to him of anything more substantive than the weather though he was sure she was just doing what she thought was right. Harry decided he really need to calm this roller-coaster of emotions he was on and focus on the here and now, even if “now” wasn’t when it ought to be.

Seeing he was at least somewhat mollified, if inexplicably a little sad, Healer Folium prescribed some more sleep and food, which she had delivered. She then walked briskly out of the infirmary leaving Harry a bell by his bed to ring if he needed anything that she would hear it from anywhere in the castle.

 

Headmaster Armando Dippet raised his eyebrows as Willow described her new patients’ response to her gentle probe. He smiled slightly at the healer’s fierce protective urges already starting to make an appearance when she told rather than asked him that Harry would be staying at Hogwarts. While she said she couldn’t explicitly discuss a patient’s information with him without permission, “that boy has been grievously mistreated over a long period of time in the past.” Implied was the fact that it wouldn’t be happening under her watch and that even if the boy’s guardians could be found she would be vetting them before allowing him to leave and taking legal action if they failed to meet her standards of responsibility. Knowing that this wasn’t a battle he was going to win even if he disagreed with her in any way (and he did not), Armando nodded is accession. 

“But what if none of the boy’s family can even be found? After it sounds like he might have gotten hit with an obliviate or the trauma has cause some memory loss and these are turbulent times?” the headmaster wondered aloud.

“We sort him of course and treat him as any student,” the hat proclaimed suddenly. The ancient and rather patched sorting hat had been known to give advice on occasion but rarely did without first being invited.

Knowing this must be something about which the hat felt strongly Headmaster Dippet asked the hat, “What makes you so sure that this is the correct course and that he should be a student here, after all we don’t know hardly anything about him?”

The hat scoffed and responded, “He appeared in Hogwarts out of nowhere? That’s all I need to know, after all the school doesn’t let just anyone break the wards to enter. Hogwarts has already accepted him as one of her own and to go against her now would be unadvisable.”

Armando nodded in agreement, he had already been considering this fact (after all this wasn’t the type of atmosphere where you wanted to have a breach in security and so he had checked but all the wards were stills standing strong) and so the boy must have been accepted in by the school herself.

“Well it is decided then,” Dippet said with a grin, Hogwarts has just accepted a transfer student. “As soon as he is well enough I will bring the hat down and we will get him sorted and his schedule figured out.”

 

To Harry’s surprise he really did go back to sleep after scarfing down the food that the healer left. He didn’t normally sleep well under the best of conditions and this wouldn’t be them but his body must have still been tired. He wryly thought that time travel of over 50 years could do that to a person. Walking up he saw that Healer Folium had just come out of her office. Seeing him awake again she double checked him over and then let him know that although they had been unable to find his family, they would continue trying and until then he could go to school at Hogwarts.

Harry knew that he probably shouldn’t stay because he would have a greater chance of changing things here but Hogwarts was his home and he had no idea about where to go in this time so he gratefully accepted. Besides, it didn’t look like the fierce healer was planning on letting him off her radar for some time.

Beaming at his agreement she bustled off to the fireplace to let the headmaster know. Harry couldn’t help but feel a little relief when he remembered that the headmaster right now was Dippet and not Dumbledore. In some ways he still saw him as a grandfather figure but in other ways that just made the fact that he was secretly planning his death hurt that much more. Harry understood that Dumbledore was just doing what he thought was best for everyone but as the sacrificial lamb in this scenario he couldn’t help but feel a little let down. With all these complex emotions about his former headmaster swimming around he was glad that he wouldn’t have to face him right off the bat.

By the time Harry has finished worrying about Dumbledore Headmaster Dippet was walking into the infirmary carrying a familiar scuffed and patched hat.

Headmaster Dippet looked a bit younger than his portrait but is still recognizable. His hair isn’t entirely white and still has some last daring strands of brown. His eyes are also a warm brown, yet somehow Harry can only think of a deep lake on a calm day when he looks into them.

“Hello, young man, it is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Headmaster Armando Dippet. I hear that Healer Folium has already filled you in on the situation so all that is left is to sort you and get your schedule settled. How old are you?” In defiance of the calm lake, Headmaster Dippet seemed to radiate energy and Harry was reminded that the lake had depths and that just because he could get a glimpse of peoples’ souls didn’t mean he knew everything about them.

“Um, I’m 16, sir. But I don’t have any money on me” Harry blushed, he hated asking for money. “In fact, I don’t even have any cloths” he said looking around helplessly since all he had on was a hospital gown and his old hand-me-downs of Dudley’s where nowhere to be seen.

“Yes, sorry about that. Unfortunately, we had to dispose of what you were wearing,” said Healer Folium not sounding sorry at all.

Headmaster Dippet nodded his head in understanding saying, “Not to worry Mr. Patel. We have a scholarship fund here at the school and as long as you can keep your grades up and try your best, we can provide you with money for supplies. I see that you already have your wand so we don’t have to worry about that.”

“Thank you, sir.” Still fighting the blush Harry reminded himself that he needed to get used to his new last name. 

“Now that we have that settled let’s see which house you will be in.” and so saying Headmaster Dippet placed the hat on Harry’s head. It didn’t come down over his eyes quite as bad as it had his first year but it still mostly covered them.

“Well, isn’t this a surprise,” the hat exclaimed into Harry’s head. “Quite the exciting life you have led, though I can see you maybe would have wished for a calmer one.”

“You won’t tell anyone?” Harry worried to the hat.

An air of offence came off the hat and it responded, “Of course not! I might give the headmaster advice on occasion but a sorting is private, no one’s thoughts should be revealed by another.” He added, to assuage some of Harry’s other worries, “In fact, I think I shall make an exception and give you some advice right now. The founders gave me all of their knowledge when they created me and Ravenclaw had a lively discussion with the rest of the possibility of time travel into a past before the traveler was born. Purely theoretical but the consensus that they eventually came to was that either a parallel dimension would be created in which this was the reality and a new future would occur to avoid paradoxes or the time traveler would be considered outside of time and magic would fix the paradox by allowing this one person to live through as though they were someone different, probably whatever alias they chose and not affect their future self since they would in essence be a different person. This second one was everyone’s favorite since it would mean that when say Harry Potter is born he will be a different person which makes sense because he will live a different life than you and it is often our experiences more than our parents that make us who we are. I agree that this one is the best since it is impossible for your presence to not have an effect on the future and magic certainly wouldn’t allow for paradoxes. Imagine for example that you stopped your parents from getting together, that would mean that you would never be born, but if you were never born then you wouldn’t have gone back in time and therefore they would be together. Do you see? It would create a paradoxical loop and time space wouldn’t allow that. Magic brought you here and I highly doubt you will be able to return to the future without anything to tie your soul to that time though you are welcome to try. My advice would be to take this opportunity to create a new life for yourself and live it as you see fit instead of having to measure up to other people’s expectations. Though I can’t promise smooth sailing it is somewhat of a fresh start. So Harry Patel, who do you want to be?” After spewing all of this in rapid succession the hat went silent and allowed Harry some time to try and organize his reeling thoughts.

The first thing that Harry latched onto, strangely, or maybe not so strangely was the implication that his presence here/now might change the future so that the new Harry Potter will have a different life. Though really, now that he considered it how could his presence not change things? Big or small his presence was going to ripple out and might change events he could not even consider. However, if the hat was right (and Harry was inclined to trust it with a brain like that) then Harry was absolved from having to worry and consider the effects every little act of his was going to have. He should instead live his life as if he were from this time and let the chips fall where they may. This seemed to Harry dangerously simple in a way his life never was (it was always more complicated) but perhaps, just this once, it didn’t have to be? After all it was impossible to predict how everything might change so maybe he shouldn’t even try?

With an internal sinking of his heart Harry realized that if he was truly stuck here in the past he was never going to see his friends again and even if he did meet them in 50 years it wouldn’t be the same and likely, without all the “adventures” they had together would be different people. He might be upset with them right now and feeling a little betrayed but that didn’t mean that he never wanted to see them anymore. It felt a little like losing Sirius all over again; now he truly was alone in the world. One talent of Harry’s had always been being able to move and continue living no matter the scenario. Abusive home? Continue living. Sudden drop into magical community? Do the best he could. Realization that everyone wanted him to save them at 11? Try to meet their expectations. Almost death from a basalisk? Celebrate the end of the year with everyone else. Fining and then losing a Godfather? Keep on going. Forced participation into a tournament? Work harder. Witnessing the death of a student and the resurrection of Voldemort? Keep on living. And on and on and on. Truly, the thing that had finally made him say he had enough was Sirius’s death and the abandonment of people he thought cared. Though even then he hadn’t given up, simply made plans to keep living, even if it was a different life. That, Harry realized was what he was going to have to do here. After all he was already considering going into hiding and starting a new life for himself, this was the same but he wouldn’t have to hide.

If Harry was going to accept that he was someone new and that he could live in this time as his own person then there was another looming question. Not who are you but who do you want to be? Harry had never been asked that question. He was always told who he was going to be and what he had to do. He had never even stopped to consider what he would want to be without everyone’s expectations and demands. Who did he want to be? He considered an auror but he didn’t really want to be stuck fighting dark wizards all the time like in his last life (he was already starting to think about it as a separate life not the current future). Before auror made sense because everyone expected it of him and because he was forced to fight anyway so he might as well have the experience and training. 

He considered what else he wanted to do. He felt like when Death-Eater-Moody was trying to get him to admit what he was good at. Flying was something that Harry was a natural at and that he truly enjoyed but did he want to make a career out of it? If he got really good, and his competitive side wouldn’t let him do less if he was going to make a career out of it, then he would have to face being famous again. It might not be as bad if it was for something he actually remembered doing and could be proud of? Still he liked flying but he wanted to do something where he really got to help people, that part of him hadn’t been artifice, he liked feeling useful and needed.

Perhaps a healer? They had always helped him out a lot the numerous times he ended up in their care. Then Harry considered when the others had gotten injured in the Department of Mysteries and the queasy feeling in his stomach at the sight of all the blood and reconsidered. It might have just been because they were his friends and he felt responsible but he didn’t want to be a healer who couldn’t handle healing people just because they were his friends. His own blood and injuries didn’t bother him but sometimes when he saw other people bleeding it made him nauseous. That was probably out as career then.

Suddenly Harry remembered teaching the DA. How much he had enjoyed helping others to reach their full potential, making up lesson plans in his free time and being so proud of the students when they succeeded at something they had been working on. He wasn’t sure if he would want to always teach Defense, after all it would be fun to teach students to fly combining those two loves. But if there was a war going on he wanted students to be able to defend themselves; maybe when there wasn’t a war anymore? Harry wasn’t sure what he wanted to teach but he was certain that, if he got a choice, he wanted to be a teacher.

With this firmly in his mind the hat chimed back in, “Of course you get a choice and I think a teacher is a wonderful career path for you, but where to put you to best accomplish this?” “Really you would do alright in any of the houses,” the hat mused. “You can show great loyalty, though after your recent hurt you will probably be a little slower to trust and you don’t have anyone in this time yet to show loyalty to so probably not Hufflepuff. Hm, you are quite smart and have been holding yourself back a little on that front. You like learning enough to want to teach and you even have something more coveted than intelligence and that is wisdom. However, you will have great pressure placed on you to succeed in Ravenclaw and I would hate for you to lose sight of your goal because you are so caught up trying to rise to those expectations. Griffindor would still fit you very well. You are brave, especially in the protection of your friends though your recklessness has been tempered by hard experience this past year. Griffindor might be tough for because of the memories you would have to wade through and you might be goaded back into more careless behavior though I doubt you will ever trust Dumbledore so blindly again. Just like the first time Slytheryn will treat you well. It will help with your ambition of becoming a teacher though you will have to fight the general prejudice against Slytheryns. I can see you are a little nervous about being in the same house as Tom Riddle. As well you should be but do remember that he isn’t Voldemort yet. Slytheryn would afford you the greatest opportunity to change events from the future you have seen but wouldn’t help afford you your anonymity. Again it would help you on your way to greatness but I know that isn’t necessarily what you want. Very well what house do you want to be in?

Surprised by the sudden question Harry thought hard for a minute. If this was really a fresh start for him then he wanted a house where he could be happy and have friends. Hufflepuff sounded nice for that but he didn’t have the open trust that most in the house did which might make him an outcast. Ravenclaws tended to be a bit more independent but they got together to study. He wasn’t sure he wanted to work that hard now that it wasn’t a life or death experience. Griffindor did sound hard on his emotions and he didn’t want to spend the whole time missing Ron and Hermione which he knew he would do in the familiar tower. Slytheryn sounded alright but he didn’t want to fight the subtle battles for supremacy they always seemed to have seething under the surface. With a sigh Harry remember his first thought about the houses, that he wished they had one for someone who felt a bit queasy, that would be the one for him. Giving up Harry told the hat to just pick whatever he thought was best since he knew Harry as well as, if not better than he knew himself.

The hat decided and said, “This choice might be a little harder for you at first but I think in the end it will make you, not the rest of the world you are a little too selfless, but you happy. Best of luck in SLYTHERYN.” The hat called out the last word.

“Thank you for your help and advice” Harry quickly thought at the hat as it was pulled from his head and heard a quick, “Not at all child, best of luck and do try and stop by to say hello at some point” in reply.

Looking up at the Headmaster and Healer Harry blushed as he realized that he must have had the longest sorting of anyone ever. The Headmaster just shook his head minutely to let him know that it was fine and pulled out a blank paper saying, “Not a problem, you must have had much to consider so do you have any idea which classes you might want to take?”

Nervously, Harry was about to answer when a sudden thought occurred to him, “Headmaster, might I see a list of the available classes before I made my selection?”

“Certainly, if you are not familiar with our curriculum you might look over the classes, here is a current list. As a fifth year you will have access to all of the classes but a few of the very advanced ones that require testing to get into.

Glancing over the list Harry was surprised to see some classes that weren’t offered in his old time. With a little contemplation Harry, who didn’t want to keep the admittedly very patient Headmaster who was chatting with Healer Folium waiting very long was ready to go.

“Headmaster Dippet? I have made my choices, sir. I would like to take Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology, Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts (keeping all his core classes) as well as Ancient Runes (the ritual he used to get here had made him interested in the subject) and Music (what, as long as he was here to have fun and live a normal life he might as well embrace it).” Harry clearly stated all of this and then watched as Dippet wrote it down.

“Well Mr. Patel that will make for a busy but manageable schedule that I think you will be satisfied with, I approve your choices and if you are feeling up to it you may begin on Monday.” So saying he tapped his wand on the paper and handed Harry a completed schedule who nodded in agreement.

In a business like tone Headmaster Dippet continued with, “I’m sure that Healer Folium has your measurements and we can send away for proper cloths for you as well as supplies so that you are ready to go on Monday. Now, you will be starting part way through the year and so will have a bit of catch up work to do but I’m sure that your professors will make allowances and will be happy to help you outside of class with anything you need assistance with. I’m also sure those students in your new house will be willing and able to assist you.”

Just as Headmaster Dippet was concluding his remarks he saw movement at the door and finished with a smile, “In fact here is a prefect of your house now and also the young man who found you and brought you up here, Mr. Tom Riddle.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Doesn’t Harry just seem the type to have an existential crisis about who he truly is at the worst possible moment?
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I put the first three up together but it might be a little bit before the next one comes out so in the meantime please let me know what you think!
> 
> Extra Note: I couldn’t find anything on Madame Pomfry’s predecessor so I made one up. I used Willow in keeping with Poppy’s name since it is also a plant that can alleviate pain. I then made up her middle and last name off the scientific name for yarrow, Achillea millefolium. Yarrow is a plant that can be packed into a wound to staunch blood flow but it can also be consumed and work as a blood thinner.


End file.
